Harry Potter The 7th Year
by Bonunga
Summary: Harry Potter decides to return to Hogwarts one last time, and life as he knows it is destroyed.


Chapter 1: Anxiety

Harry Potter snapped his eyes open, he immediately wondered what woke him. A loud bang came from the Dursley's kitchen and Harry decided that it was probably Dudley rooting through the fridge for a snack. Harry sat up in bed and pulled his tattered, second-hand sheet off of him. A single ray of sunlight shone through Harry's small window and hit him directly in the eyes. He winced and moved out of the way, rolling off his bed.

By the time Harry had showered, brushed his teeth and dressed, Dudley had already had his fourth helping of breakfast. When Harry walked into the kitchen, Aunt Petunia was busily pouring vegetable oil into a pan that was already sizzling with grease. Naturally, none of the Dursleys said hi, offered him a chair, or noticed his existence for that matter. Harry opened the fridge and noticed that a gallon of milk and peanut butter cookies had been the victims of Dudley's pre-breakfast snacking. He grabbed what milk was left and pulled down a bowl for cereal.

"And just what do you think you're doing boy?" Uncle Vernon growled. Harry stopped for a moment and the answered, "I'm making a bowl of cereal" he said, without turning to face the mountain of a man, whose enormous behind almost swallowed the seat it was perched on.

"What is wrong with the meal that your Aunt Petunia is working so hard to make?" Uncle Vernon asked Harry, his tone of voice tempting Harry to mouth off and get into trouble. "There is nothing wrong with the meal Aunt Petunia is making, but I thought I might have some cereal so that Dudley could have an extra helping, I mean look at the boy, he's practically starving."

Dudley looked up from his sixth plate, wiping the grease off his swollen chins with the sleeve of his shirt. "I won't have you making cracks at Dudley, he is a fine man and you're just jealous!" Aunt Petunia said as she slid a napkin next to Dudley's plate, without the boy noticing. "Petunia is right," Vernon said, "you won't be poking fun at Dudley because he's got a little more man in him, unlike you."

Harry rolled his eyes and put the bowl and cereal back into their places. He pulled up the chair from the computer desk, seeing as how Dudley now needed three seats to keep from breaking beneath him. Vernon followed Harry with his beady eyes and pounced on Harry once again. "Do you expect Petunia to serve you boy? Are we your slaves?" Vernon asked, clearly enjoying the game of cat and mouse that they were playing. Harry stood and got a plate from the cabinet, he walked over to the stove and fished out a piece of bacon from the puddle of grease that was simmering in the pan. Harry waited for Uncle Vernon to yell at him, or throw something, anything that might injure him.

Breakfast went without injury, although there was a lot of snapping and yelling from Vernon. Now Harry sat in his room, staring at his ceiling and making faces in it. It was the day before Harry left on the Hogwarts Express and never looked back. He knew that Vernon Dursley was looking for something, anything that he could punish Harry for, so Harry had to be extra careful today.

Harry had been getting letters from Ron and Hermione all summer, and he chose this time to flip through them all again. Most of them were just check-ups, but their words still turned his stomach. He missed Ron and Hermione, even when the two were fighting. To pass the time, Harry moseyed down into the den and flipped on the T.V. A sharply dressed man sat behind a counter next to a woman, whose hair could deflect a bullet. The woman was reporting another double-murder. A picture of the house where the victims lived showed up on screen as the woman continued speaking monotonously. Harry gasped when he recognized the house as that of Hermione Granger. They showed the house, scarred with burn marks around the front door and a window on the second story broken. The network removed the picture and the woman concluded by saying, "There are no suspects, but the police are looking into it."

Harry sat there, dumbfounded. Surely this was the work of Voldemort, who hated muggle-borns. Harry was eaten up with anxiety. _Was it her? Was it her parents? _Questions raced across Harry's mind, and through all the confusion, he realized that there was only one survivor of the three-person family.

Harry's mind raced all day, and he wasn't able to focus on anything that anyone said to him. Vernon had yelled at him twice, his face turning a delicate shade of violet both times and Dudley kept smacking Harry in the back of the head as he walked by. Harry didn't care, all he could think about was getting to Hogwarts and seeing Hermione, if she even showed up.

That night was one of the longest Harry had ever been through in his life. He sat in the den watching the television and waiting for updates on the murder case and the one survivor. Three 'o clock passed, then four and five o' clock, and still no updates on the case. Harry eventually drifted into a restless sleep, and dreamed of Hermione, Ron and himself laughing together, then Hermione turned into a corpse, but sill kept laughing with them. It was like Harry was the only one to notice.

Harry woke from his sleep in a cold sweat. He looked at his surroundings and found himself still in the living room, with the T.V. turned off. It was just like the Dursleys to not care about Harry, but to turn the television off to save money on the bill. He got off the couch, and instead of being groggy, he found himself thinking of Hermione, wide awake. He made his way up to his cramped room and laid in his bed. Hedwig hooted softly at Harry as if she felt his anxiety. Harry's eyes drooped as he made his way back to sleep.

He woke again but felt as if he hadn't slept a wink. It was 7:30 in the morning and Harry busied himself with packing. Surprisingly, he had all his packing done and his room cleaned by 8:15, this was odd because normally, Harry would've put it off until about ten. Movement in the kitchen told Harry that the Dursleys were up and around the table for their first feeding frenzy of the day. Harry ambled down the steps and peered into the kitchen from the steps. Vernon, Petunia and Dudley were sitting around their table, quietly eating. You could cut the tension with a butter knife. Harry knew that they hated having to take him to King's Cross. He walked down into the kitchen and joined the awkwardly silent breakfast, everyone except Dudley picking at their plate.

"Well, Dudders, how do you feel about starting school again?" Aunt Petunia said, trying obviously to break the silence. "I dunno mum, it's not a big deal." Dudley said, irritated that his next bite was interrupted by such an intrusion as conversation. The answer had miserably failed to remove the atmosphere of anxiety, on the contrary, it added to it. The rest of breakfast was composed of off-handed comments and simple 'uh huh, uh uh' answers.

When the time hit ten o' clock, Vernon finally ushered Harry into their car without a word and began driving. "You will be of age next year, boy, your moving out correct?" Vernon said after a few minutes of driving. "No sense in waiting that long," Harry said, "I'm of age in the wizarding world now. I won't be coming back next summer." Vernon immediately lightened up when Harry said this, and even gave him a pat on the back as Harry walked by, toward the station. Harry gave an insincere good-bye and left the Dursleys behind forever, little did Harry know, this would be the last time Harry would see the Dursleys whether he wanted to or not.


End file.
